


His Name is Loki

by Aerosol



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Intersex Loki, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Lies, Loki is Not Amused, M/M, Mpreg, Odin's Bad Parenting, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Thor, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Thor Feels, Warning: Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2383460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerosol/pseuds/Aerosol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...No, The Aesirs didn´t made guilty of injustice, when they claimed the silvertongue had unfolded to a thoroughly depraved creature.  Although Thor would have destroyed every male exemplar that would have the foolhardiness to stand by his side and whisper such spiteful sentences with laughter into his ear.<br/> And he would have felt no remorse by hearing their crushing bones. Because Thor still had hope. It might sound paradox, virtually insane and completely off the reality, but he still had hope. Hoped for something he did not know to designate, even though it was relentless in his mind. Hoped for forgiveness, possibly for a new beginning. In this moment he hoped for a milder punishment than that, which tried to dominate his nightmares for several nights and urged him hour by hour deeper into the blame rolling his intestines because of fear and drove shiny beads of sweat on his forehead just with the mere imagination. Execution he thought and the word remained bitter on his tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thor gritted his teeth so tightly that he thought his jaw would shatter with another minimal increase of the applied pressure.   
But he ignored the pain, felt it as an annoying side effect, than as a real distraction of the continuously intended observation.   
  


Laboriously he kept his vigorous body in the shadows of one of the in rectilinearly symmetry sequenced columns, looked at the scenery with growing suspicion. He calmly leaned against the cool, to the ceiling towering stone and folded his arms, covering the subliminal shaking of hid clenched fists from inquisitive eyes.  
Six guards had positioned themselves into a circle, peppered with weapons, kept the prisoner strict in the middle. The Spearheads glittered reddish in the light glow of the setting sun. To the Aesir they appeared like a blood-soaked omen, telling of death and grief. The invisible weight, which was resting upon his chest since the moment he had to give Loki to custody of the royal army squeezed the breath from his lungs, got heavier with every fatal thought.  
The trembling of his hands hasted its rhythm, although he convulsively dug them into the metal of his armor.   
Since henceforth three days Odin discussed with his wife about the persistence of the existence, that once was called _son_ by them and _little brother_ by Thor in the next room, sealed from all eyes and ears,.   
  


Today the final decision should be made and opened to the citizens of Asgard.   
  


The audience hall, in which hundreds of representatives of the common folk had gathered, was almost overflowing because of the impatient murmuring. Everywhere there were incessant whispers and hisses. Speculations from the strangest kind were getting into the air through snapping flows, hovering in the atmosphere like a malevolent, unfortunate veil. Thor never thought that he would have to compare the race of the Aesirs with a nodular bundle of snakes, romping annoyed in a basket and wrestling for the best place.   
But now this unlikely case had occurred and what hurt him the most was the fact, that he couldn´t take amiss their malady comments, neither their malicious joy.  
Everyone knew what crimes Loki had committed on Midgard, what catastrophe he nearly had caused and what nefarious dream he had indulged.  
The god of thunder himself was not able to deny the cruelty with which his brother had slaughtered the human beings and with which icy calculation he manipulatively had used them for his own purposes, and then had thrown them away like wasted toys.   
They had been unrecognizable tools for him, trained dogs, for which it was proper to eat a piece of raw meat and to be sent for hunting afterwards.   
He wanted to be a god, in a world, which had no need for a god from his norse caliber.   
He had brought chaos across the countries and destruction across the cities. He had raised again the taboo to his personal law.  
No, The Aesirs didn´t made guilty of injustice, when they claimed the silvertongue had unfolded to a thoroughly depraved creature.   
Although Thor would have destroyed every male exemplar that would have the foolhardiness to stand by his side and whisper such spiteful sentences with laughter into his ear.  
And he would have felt no remorse by hearing their crushing bones.  
Because Thor still had hope.  
It might sound paradox, virtually insane and completely off the reality, but he still had hope. Hoped for something he did not know to designate, even though it was relentless in his mind. Hoped for forgiveness, possibly for a new beginning.  
  


Sometime, somewhere, somehow.  
  


In this moment he hoped for a milder punishment than that, which tried to dominate his nightmares for several nights and urged him hour by hour deeper into the blame rolling his intestines because of fear and drove shiny beads of sweat on his forehead just with the mere imagination. _Execution_ he thought and the word remained bitter on his tongue.  
In this second the sonorous sound of opening doors  announced the arrival of the majesties. They walked together to the throne, but always kept an irreconcilable distance of few centimeters, almost as thorns would get into their bodies with another approximation.   
Every muscle strand in the thundergod’s body involuntarily tensed with this picture, and it almost seemed as if his very own reflexes prepared him for an approaching battle.  Each of his senses remained sharpened to the utmost. When Odin set down on his seat of power he magisterially knocked on the shiny parquet.  
The sign.   
They objectively had made a decision.  
The whispering stopped abruptly, hypnotically all the glances hung on the aged, authoritative figure, waiting for the judgment.   
The allfather cleared his throat.  
His face lacked any expression, when he started so talk.  
With an across boarded gaze to the crowd Thor realized that many Aesirs instinctively held their breath because of the voltage.  
He shared this phenomenon with them as well – but his matched more nervous than agitated origin.   
He quickly looked at his mother, who dutifully stood beside her husband; he tried to derive eye contact and to read the development of this miserable occassion.   
He met her glance, quicker than he hoped to and he startled when he saw revealing tears shimmering under her eyelids.   
  
Frigga never cried.   
  
Unless her grief included one of her sons.  
  
Immediately Thor turned his head to the king, almost craned his neck. His father’s eyes were animated by unusual coldness. Hard and unyielding like weathered rocks.   
The blood roared in the crown prince’s ears, reminded him of remote thunderous rumbling. A storm moved on in these halls, he could feel it like animals felt the approaching arrival of an earthquake.   
“Loki Laufeyson”, the loud voice finally boomed through the silent hall, “Do you confess to have led Midgard into an early Ragnarok, to have committed a pact with the Chitauri and to have excruciatingly killed thousands of human beings?”  
Thor glanced at his brother, tried to filter the slightest emotion from the marble profile, framed by night black hair. But it was of no avail. The jotun made no expression, kept looking strictly to the allfather.   
“Guilty. In every accusatory point, father.” He replied scornful, lacked any sign of remorse.   
Thor gulped, looked back to Odin.  
His eyes seemed to have petrified in seconds, the iris dark like the coal mountains from Svartaflheim. Never before the god of Thunder had seen similar abhorrence in the allfather’s face.  
Loki met this development with simple arrogance, forming a scrawny smile around his haggard mouth.   
“So”, Odin portentously started , “you have definitively proved that no drop of my blood flows in your veins. Your whole existence has become a shame for this kingdom and it torments me that I myself wanted to take you in our ancestry. If I had left you to your destiny at that time in Jotunheim none of your sins would burden my sleep today.” He took a deep breath, let every just spoken word influence the crowd to his feet.   
“But I won´t make this mistake a second time.” He added gloomily.  
A certain murmur went through the crowd, got with an impalpable wave to the last man and to the last woman.  
Thor on the other hand felt as if someone had given him a targeted hit in the stomach. A voice, deep in his innermost, pushed him to scream out his mind, to stop the time, and to hold back the decision, which the allfather was up to make.  
But his throat constricted, his tongue grew weary. The horror let him freeze to an unreared doll and it was, as if this war was decided without him.  
He felt more than he saw, that his father rose from his throne. His vision blurred to an opaque mash made out of colors, strange and familiar, beloved faces.  
He blinked several times but it brought nothing.  
He felt dizzy.  
  
“I announce the verdict.”  
  
Odin’s grip on the slim rod of Gungnir strengthened.   
  
“You, Loki Laufeyson, will be beheaded with tomorrow’s first sunbeam on the public space, in front of all onlookers’ eyes, that your evil being will cause no creature´s harm anymore. May Helheim take your tainted soul from us!”  
  
A few seconds passed. From somewhere a miserably restrained cough was heard.   
Then the folk burst into deafening cheers, clapped, whistled, and praised the verdict from their hallowed allfather. Even the guards showed their uninhibited consent, jeered and laughed, pulled more at the prisoner’s chains to force him on his knees.   
  


But for Loki it was easy to keep his balance, although it gave him much effort to show no pain in his distorted face by the unimaginative tug at his limbs. Instead he concentrated on other facts, tried to eradicate the burning from his maltreated bones.  
For the first time since he moved into these halls he vaguely turned to the side, attentively surveyed the place where he had perceived the presence of a too known individual. To his mild surprise he noticed that it has vanished without any sign.  
  
Just the column with little cracks remaining of buried fingertips narrated that there had ever stood a person.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor comes to the rescue. But it seems Loki doesn't want to be saved...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for your kudos and comments :)
> 
> I hope you'll like this chapter as well^^

Loki disapprovingly clucked his tongue.

  
The rusty iron chains were so tightly wrapped around his wrists that the thin skin roughed up with every careless movement. As the god looked at himself he noticed slim trickles of blood making their way through the steel chains and soaked his white sleeves with red, damp stains.  
The legacy of the raging guards. After all they had been persistent. His common clothes had been removed, his body had been forced into a simple shirt and linen trousers. His feet had been left bare and unshod. On a table, just a few meters away delicious  food and exquisite wine were served.  
Every imaginable apecialty had been built up in abundance just to satisfy his physical comfort.  
  


His last supper.  
  


For a criminal like him it actually was an outrageous privilege, but Loki was sure that Frigga had her soft voice talking Odin into this. She wanted to give him every comfort she was able to, even on his deathbed…an  admirable woman, but incorrigible in her goodness as always.  
He had not payed tribute to this testimony’s favor, left it untouched. Rodents and maggots should be pleased by this hypocritical meal, he would not force a single,nutritious snack trough his throat. Just thinking about it let him feel nausea and self-disgust.  
Ruminating he glanced out of the barricaded window. He could perfectly see Asgard´s nocturnal flood of lights and fire filled kettles through the bars. The tower in which they kept him till tomorrow was build in old construction and previously used as military station, but today it has gotten into dusty oblivion and was only recalled for special purposes. Loki was hardly disturbed by this seclusion.

  
He liked the silence of the forest, whose roots had been drifting up to this friable masonry and who bravely rambled up on the foundations. When the jotun lowered his glance he was able to catch the silhouettes of an emerging bud, even in the pure darkness.

  
Lowering his gaze a little further down, the jotun was able to catch the schemes of an emerging bud even in purest darkness.  
  
Involuntarily Loki recalled that soon the arrival of spring would come.  
His eyes brightened slightly.  
How happily he would have broken these iron bars from the opening and turned into the form of an agile hawk spreading his wings and merging with the smoldered shadow of the darkened sky.  
  
To be free. To forget. To live again.  
  
But Loki knew far too well that this would merely remain a dubious illusion.  
Although thetowermight havelost itspristinesplendor, therunesscratchedintothemortarhadhardlylost any of theirpower, so thathe could feelthe magicalbarrier aroundhim, even touching it if he wanted to.

Loki had no more false hopes. 

He could not escape from this ruin, there were no viable means of escape granted to him.  
In contrast to the graceful shape of the fairy tale _Rapunzel_ _,_ no knight in shining armor would come and free him with a set of charming sword swings. No one would save him.  
But when the god of mischief was honest with himself, he would have probably not wanted to be saved, welcoming the honorable knight rather with a bucket of acid than flattering greet ...  
  
The prisoner raised his head, as the perfect silence was suddenly shattered by a loud rumbling and the emergence of several protesting voices.  
  
He remained on the spot, listening with cautious curiosity. The two warriors who stationed themselves at the door of his room seemed to struggle verbally, and when the jotun’s fine ears were not mistaken, sometimes even physically with an unpleasant visitor who did not think to accept the little, calm _No_.  
  
Although Loki would not have admitted it, even under torture, an imperceptible smile crept over his face.  
He had not expected that this fool would take so long to seek him out here.  
But he forgave him. For the first time he had truly mercy. This wonderful idiot. At least he was reliable.  
Almost automatically he made the thought of his early execution responsible for his depressed-influenced impairment.  
  
He would have found no other cause acceptable.  
  
Loki waited about four minutes until he heard two bodies hurled against the wall, falling to the ground with a delicate crash.  
  
Simultaneously the jingle of a bunch of keys echoed, trying to fit in the door lock.  
  
Loki watched warily as the entrance to his makeshift prison opened gap by gap. The glow of a torch fell into the dark room, revealing beefy shadows in its center.  
The slating smile on his face became a calculating grin.  
  
He had never doubted that Thor would come along and claim his company in the last hours of his life. No single second he would have doubt that.  
Ultimately, he _knew_ his former brother very well.  
And he knew better than anyone else about the penetrating guilt that constantly drove Thor to actions often leading him into complete unhappiness.  
Also today, this would certainly be the case.  
  
And Loki would have the personal responsibility ...

 

* * *

  
  
Even as Thor broke through the door, he instinctively jerked back, his arm protectively held in front of his face when the pale frame of his brother met him in totally relaxed posture with piercing eyes.  
  
The moon, which peeped shyly through the window opening, poured out as the sole source of light on the floor of the sparsely furnished space, painted pale streaks on the figure of his brother, fragmented to silver shards in his emerald iris.  
Loki stood up, however, and took a few steps to the thunder god, but kept a certain distance that prevented Thor to grasp him easily, if he should feel the need of a spontaneous, emotion-related contact.  
  
The Aesir realized the intent behind this gesture almost instantly, he knew it from earlier, more peaceful days.  
A bad taste mingled on his tongue.  
  
He missed the past.  
  
The time in which they had been brothers and comrades, but never faced as enemies or rivals.  
It seemed to be ages ago.  
Too long ... far too long gone.  
  
¨Loki.¨  
  
voice was riddled with grief, his face unusually haggard.  
The fists, with whom he had just knocked the two guards out of their consciousness, still trembled from the reverberation of his hits.  
His He did not know what he else to say. Any phrase  he had thought up on his way to the tower, had fallen from his lips and buried itself in strict silence.  
  
And as he saw his brother, thinking about the fate that would befall him next morning, he became totally mute. Suddenly every word, every sentence, every syllable had left his mind with a nasty chuckle.  
  
Only _Loki_.  
  
Only this word, this reputation was left to him.  
  
So he just stayed there, run out of words but the one, drowning in such a wealth of past memories, events and feelings, that the period of time after Ragnarok and the doom of the gods would probably not have been long enough to express all the importance that linked the god of thunder with this beloved, yet hated name. Such agony and dream in two small, puny syllables.  
  
“You’re late.” Loki said merely quiet, folded his arms as far as it was allowed by the confinement of the chains.  
  
The rattles of them awakened Thor from his trance.  
The noise promoted something inside him that made him internally furious.  
Like directed by invisible threads, he approached his brother, grabbed his wrists and held them close to his field of vision.  
  
He was right, the moonlight had not deceived his perception.  
  
The rancid brown spots that stretched on the shirt sleeves, biting vigorously on the pearl white fabric.  
Blood. Dried blood.  
He would recognize this nuance everywhere - the battlefield had taught him this memory so well.  
  
“Who did this to you?” he snarled, feeling the strange pulse throb worryingly weak under his palms while he ran his rough fingertips over the bones, embedded in a thin coat of skin.

“Tell me their names and I’ll break them every limb they have!”  
  
Loki responded quite unimpressed on the rigorous death threat, raised an eyebrow in amusement at best before he gently pointed to the fetlocks.  
  
“The chains.” he replied dryly, stretched out his hands, more inviting this time. “Be my guest.”  
  
Within the blink of an eye broken metal bounced to the floor.  
  
Sighing in relief, Loki rubbed his exposed wrists but his scornful glance remained.  
  
“Now, why are you here? Have you come back to mock the doomed after you ran cowardly away when he was sentenced to death? ¨ he asked hypocritically.  
The God of Thunder snorted.  
He hated it when his brother tried to lure him with such comments, only groping for pure sadistic pleasure.  
Mjollnir hung heavy on his hip, pleaded silently for use. Thor ignored it.  
  
“No more games, brother.” he said instead, made sure by a rapid gaze, that the guards still ‘slept’ behind them. “You know exactly why I'm here. We need to get you out of Asgard before the night ends.”  
  
On an impulse he subsequently stretched out his hand again, let it rest on the pale neck of his opponent, stroked it with his thumb, touching the familiar, smooth cheek afterwards.  
  
The scenery, a few seconds before the planned coronation ceremony, rose in his mind's eye.  
Even then he had wanted to show Loki with this gesture, how much he needed him.  
What he really meant to him.  
How fast had all gone down and led to fracture.  
  
  
Peace of mind, laughter, childish quarrels. Gone.  
  
A sweet and bitter pain manifested itself in his chest when he thought of it.  
  
But to his simple knitted joy Loki did not flinch from the contact this time, allowing the Aesir’s blue iris to sink forcefully in his green, tightly clutching at each other.  
  
“I’m not going to let you die without honor, no matter what father says. I feel no appreciable pleasure at the thought of staring at your decapitated body and watch how the wood of the scaffold drinks your blood.¨ the thunder god said.

The predominant finality in Thor’s bass brought a bitter smile on Loki’s face.  
  
“Odin will cut your head off if the guards tell him what you did to allow my flight.” he said, leaned deliberately slowly into the touch, “He will know immediately who helped me to escape and why. This is not the act of a future king. It might be surprising to you, but I enjoy no particular sympathy in Asgard. You have witnessed yourself how the people erupted in unanimous cheers. They want my death.¨  
  
The emerald eyes narrowed to thin slits.  
  
“And if you were smart, you'd also want it. Finally, the allfather had a point - I'm a disgrace to this kingdom. Fine, so I’m yours, too.¨  
  
Thor gritted his teeth, fighting back the rage that was boiling in his veins, similar to an uncontrollable, wild horse rearing in his organs.  
  
“I'd rather see me taking your place than attending this demonstration.¨ he replied scarcely, tightened his grip on Loki’s neck.

His voice was scratchy. Uncontrolled.  
  
The lack of emotion in which Loki deepened his voice during his remarks, broke his heart, filled him with futile, misguided anger.  
In moments like this, he longed to beat his brother into the ground until they were both soaked in his frostgiant blood.  
But at the same time the overpowering need appeared to grab him by the hair and attract him as closely as possible, to feel his breath in the crook of his neck.  
  
The idea of forever losing him to a place where not even he, the master of thunder and hail storms, had access to, made him shiver in unspeakable helplessness.  
  
Never again hear this eloquent voice that could curdle to flattering velvet or smooth ice if necessary.  
Never again experiencing the mischief of others, attend some tricks, take delight in the strange, shadowy beings, be fascinated by a creature so changeable, so anxious to put his world backwards. So successfully it should be surprising that Asgard's walls still were present until today.  
Never again put the clumsy fingers in a coarse act of affection onto the pale flesh, reverently plowing through fine textures of raven black hair.  
  
Never again.  
Because the silver tongue would no longer be there.  
Because he would be dead. Out of reach for Thor.  
  
And even Loki himself urged him now that it was better to want his death instead of avoiding it.  
Better for him, for his mental and physical well-being.  
  
Usually, Thor's anger would have known no limits.  
He would have roared, would have vehemently denied till his lungs collapsed.  
  
Usually. But he did not.  
  
So many words reveled on his tongue, that it simply made him speechless, strangulated his throat.  
  
The skin he touched remained cool and soft under his hand. The eyes, he was not willing to let vanish in a blurry dead view, met him out of gloomy depths.  
He swallowed hard.  
  
“We have to go now.” he said a bit hoarse, got hold of Loki's wrist and dragged him with him.  
He turned to the door and took a first step but his eyes widened in surprise as the wood began to put itself in a sweeping motion and locked with a pitiful crunch.  
As if someone would manipulate...  
  
“Who ever said I would go with you? ¨ it penetrated smoothly from behind his back.  
  
Thor did not need to turn around to know that Loki's magic had blocked the outlet.  
He knew not why, though. It seemed absurd, not to say suicidal.  
  
Yes ... suicidal.  
  
This word fit shockingly well to every facet that engulfed his brother in itself.  
  
“Loki, I'll only say this once. Open the door.¨ Thor ordered, tried noticeably to maintain his composure.  
  
“What if not? ¨ the god replied challenging. “Is it that uncomfortable for you to stay in the same room with me? How unple- "

“Do you **want** to die?” the thunder god interrupted angrily when he turned.  
Loki looked at him, cocked his head. He seemed to feel no fear.  
The expression in his eyes was unsuspected, almost sad, compassionate. Melancholic.  
  
He did not answer.  
And his silence spoke more than a thousand words could have.  
  
They looked at each other.  
  
The realization seeped viscously to Thor, ultimately split into stages.  
And with every successfully bridged stage he understood how things were currently standing between them.  
  
“You want to die.” the Aesir realized. He was horrified. “You want to leave me. Forever.”  
  
The last execution earned him the contemptuous snort of his opponent.  
  
“Of course you have to refer any immediate decision on you, you wretched ego –“ Loki flinched, raising an eyebrow.  
  
His expression changed, transformed into a more gentle mask as he would have inwardly scolded himself for an unforgivable faux pas.  
He even promoted a thin-lipped smile to light up the corners of his mouth.  
  
“Well,“ he said, “Maybe you really are the reason. Maybe it's Odin, maybe Asgard, maybe this whole world.” he sighed. “I'm tired, Thor. I’m tired since we left Midgard. And the idea of aimlessly wandering through the worlds, fleeing from Heimdall’s eyes, torments me more than I am willing to bear.”  
  
He raised his head, his hair rippling like a black fan over his shoulders, framing the honed profile.  
  
“Fulfill the request of a hanged man and let him finally get to rest due the executioner’s axe.” he whispered in the Aesir’s ear, leaned even closer to his brother, went playfully downright playful with the fingertips of his left hand, stroking over Thor’s heavy breathing rib cage.  
Thor froze.  
The proximity of his brother brought his familiar scent with it.  
  
An airy, engaging bouquet, beguiling ingredients he could not name, but utterly delicious and intoxicating.  
He felt his heart pounding faster against his chest.  
  
Loki rarely maintained closer physical contact with him at all, not even a hand shake, let alone a tight embrace.  
But now it seemed the cunning god even wanted to rub his skin over his counterpart’s.  
  
Thor did not deny the strange shift in his brother's celibate nature... well, it confused him - but he was not so stupid to believe that Loki actually meant it.

…Or did he?

   
“It seems to me you hatch something again, brother.” the Aesir muttered rougher than intended, while Loki’s lips ghosted over his earlobe.  
“Oh please, my fate is sealed.” he whispered in restrained amusement, blew his warm breath against the sensitive flesh, making the Aesir gasp.  
  
Loki chuckled.  
  
“It's fine the way it is.” he said, drew shapeless lines on the thunder god’s chest, “I have nothing to lose - nothing, except my virginity. Shameful, isn’t it? All those wasted nights ... “.  
  
The mischief and allusion in his voice could be heard very clearly at the end of his sentence.  
Thor heard them reverberate in his ears, but he took it as a nasty illusion.  
  
“What brings you to this sudden change of heart? ¨ he asked, still suspicious, the abstrusity of this situation not escaping after all.  
  
It was so unsuspected, so terribly wrong-headed.  
So wrong, as if someone had stolen their free will and replaced it by a bunch of threads, which made them like puppets, dancing relentlessly on stage.  
  
Nevertheless, contrary to his reasonable doubt, he could neither resist the charm nor fall for it.  
  
As if in slow motion he took a daring step and spread his arms, put them around the waist of his opponent tentatively .  
He was surprised when Loki accepted his embrace without hesitation, formally clung to his body, his own arms tied around his broad neck.  
Their faces were now only a few millimeters away from each other, their lips almost brushing as the god of chaos began to speak again, a scarcely perceptible smile around his mouth.  
He was freer than usual, detached, as if someone had take any load from his shoulders.  
  
“Well, it does say I have a dying wish after all.” he said enticingly.  
  
Thoughtfully he let his fingers glide through the golden blonde mane of the thunder god, pulled a lot on the strains until he could be sure that it linked with pain. And Thor adored it.  
  
At first he thought Loki had used one of his magical skills to put him in this state, but he rejected this theory again, as soft lips touched his.  
Every muscle in his body tensed, quivered.  
It was as if electrical impulses were raging beneath his skin, bathing his flesh in fire.  
  
Away from the window opening was a distant thunder to be heard.  
The moon was surrounded by a dense cloud wall, unable to continue throwing its pale light upon the earth underneath.  
Both brothers were immersed in shred-like darkness, their breathing the only sound in a dead silent room.  
  
“You should be honored that my choice fell on you. I would have also been able to present me to one of the soldiers. Or maybe two, who knows... “ he heard his brother say. Thor could still hear him mutter quietly when he took his mouth, biting into his lower lip.  
An animalistic sound rose in the Aesir’s throat, capturing a breathless moan.  
  
“Why? ¨ he repeated hasty after they broke the kiss. “I thought you hated me? ¨  
  
This situation was too easy, this moment too glorious, as that it could happen in reality.  
  
Loki lied.  
  
He lied with sweet lips and forked tongue, with delicate hands and a willing body.  
With heart and soul.  
  
He always lied.  
  
…didn’t he?  
  
“Not enough to spend the last night of my life on my own.” replied Loki quietly. “I don’t want us to diverge in discord. No more. This is the last chance for us to be together this way.”  
  
Again, a lie. It just _had to be a lie_.  
Each febrile fiber in Thor's body urged him to detect the fraud.  
  
And yet, for a single, yearning second, he gave it a try though he should have known better.  
  
For this was what he had dreamed of for several years now.  
The offer of a union, which couldn’t have been more intimate than this.  
The hope of forgiveness on both sides in an all baring act.  
A battle of bodies. Naked and vulnerable, flesh to flesh, skin on skin, seeking for release, driven by satisfaction and lust.  
  
It was a complete and irreversible delivery. Pure confidence.  
A fall, referring to the one at the Bifrost with ridiculous ease.  
So Thor bit his tongue and forced Loki in a stubborn kiss, pressed himself so close to him as possible, scurried with his rough hands under the fabric of the hair shirt, touched every inch of cool flesh, he could reach.  
  
The jotun took it without a word, keeping a manic grin on his face.  
  
Thor did not notice it anyway, buried his head far too fast in the neck flexion of the silver tongue, tasted the delicate skin with hunger.  
  
Had he noticed it, everything would have probably went out very different ...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a Special surprise for the All Father...

They came before the dawn colored the tops of the palace battlements.  
  
Although Thor protested, pointing out angrily that they came too early, they dressed Loki in new clamps and maneuvered him out of the tower room, shoving him mercilessly down the steps.  
Despite one of the most sadistic guards caught a provisional fist from the god of thunder, it was no use.  
  
Odin's commands were considered irrevocable.  
No extra second was granted to them.  
  
Loki took it without complaints, looking stubbornly forward.  
  
He left Thor without a word of farewell, turned his back on him, as the warriors pulled him forward - and did not turn around.  
  
A considerable crowd of spectators had already assembled as the Jotun arrived.  
The executioner stood on the scaffold and sharpened the blade of his ax with a whetstone - at least it would end quickly.  
  
Thor had gathered nearby, leaning against a wall, several feet away from his father. His face interspersed with rage, his body bent with grief.  
  
Frigga was nowhere to be found. Probably she had refused to attend the grisly spectacle.  
Loki did not blame her. He was glad not to have to look at her tear-stained face, when the executioner completed his work.  
  
Although the cruel fate that would befall him in the near future, he remained paradoxically calm and relaxed.  
Even when he went up the stage he bowed his head towards the sky, the body in a straight, unbroken attitude.  
He continued his upright defiance, put on a show for the All-Father who sat on a padded seat and watched the scene in silence.  
  
When Odin looked over to him, Loki gave him the most beautiful smile he could apply.  
Even in that moment, he would not let his mockery break.  
Even if his neck was cut off from his shoulders and his blood ran out of the divided trachea.  
  
He still had to shot his bolt.  
  
And only this would ultimately determine his death. Not the executioner's axe and not the rising sun kissing the foot of the scaffold with its first golden light.  
  
The chatter of the crowd dropped to a forgotten rustling of leaves when Odin raised his voice.  
  
“Any last words, criminal?” he asked, hardly expecting any significant reply.  
  
But Loki had always been good for a surprise.  
  
“To be honest, I have a few.” he replied smugly, then turned to the people who looked up puzzled from below.  
The silver tongue cleared his throat.  
  
This was his moment. His last chance.  
He had to look convincing on these simple minds. Otherwise he would call Helheim his homeland far too soon.  
  
“Citizens of Asgard, ¨ he began reverently, “I always knew the All-Father would do almost anything to protect his kingdom and keep his government justice-“ he deliberately left a mute break, bearing to obtain the final attention, “but even I would not have thought it possible that he is willing to kill his own grandchild to the benefit of Asgard!”  
  
A murmur went through the crowd. Bloomed like a whispering rose.  
Odin grabbed Gungnir harder. His mouth was twisted into a thin line, disappeared amid the white beard as it was not present.  
  
“What do you mean?” he barked out in a harsh tone, his voice a perfect example of resentment.  
  
Loki smiled.  
He had won.  
He had drawn the interest of the Aesir to himself, they hung on his lips now.  
Information that sought to anger the All-Father himself seemed worth to be heard.  
  
The silver tongue showed a vague nod, his hands tied to his midsection. Hundreds of eyes followed his movements as if they were trapped in a mass hypnosis.  
  
“The link between Aesir and frost giants,” Loki announced loud and lurid, “which means to bind  Asgard and Jotunheim in a peaceful coexistence with each other. I carry it under my heart. And with every breath that collects in my lungs, it becomes bigger and stronger. Ask your crown prince, he was not quite noninvolved in the procreation.”

Odin was furious. It was obvious in every fold of his wrinkled, reddened face.  
  
“Is that true? Thor, is it true what Loki says?”  
  
The god of Chaos himself turned around to face Thor, whose skin had now assumed an unhealthy, pale coloring.  
The bearded face clutched in pure, unadulterated horror, coupled with irritation and surprise.  
  
Every available pair of eyes was directed to the crown prince, some reflected disbelief, others disgust, from time to time blatant, sensationalist gent, scandalous curiosity.  
  
Loki waited as every living soul in this place for the answer of the god of thunder to be heard.  
For it would imply either his salvation or his downfall.  
His fate balanced on a knife's edge, lurching awkwardly on Thor's palm.  
  
Thor temporarily recovered from the shock of the unexpected news.  
Thousands dumb questions encountered the jotun, when he caught the steely blue looking at him pleadingly.  
He nodded almost imperceptibly, signaled the Aesir, that this time he really told the truth.  
  
He **was** pregnant.  
  
Thor licked quickly over his dry lips.  
  
His child. **His** child.  
  
"Yes, Father. He tells the truth." 

 

 

* * *

  
  
  
“How is that possible?” Thor asked for the fifth time in an hour.  
  
Bewilderment varied as ever in his voice.  
  
Loki took no notice of it, browsed undisturbed in a book about isola- runes.  
They were in Thor's chamber.  
After Thor had given his confirmation, Odin had ordered to stop the execution immediately and shooed the people imperiously from their place. The executioner was recalled, the shackles of the Jotun broken and he himself ordered  to be taken care in a healer guild that easily found out due using their medical devices that indeed another life grew in Loki's body.  
  
A puny, insignificant creature indeed, scarcely reached the size of a pin yet a living being.  
  
As the ‘good’ news were brought to Frigga, the usually hard-bitten woman had fallen into a partout swoon. Seriously, what a cliché.  
  
It would still take some time for Loki's room to prepare its former glory, which was why he had quartered himself by his brother.  
Thor had not protested.  
Ever since Loki's revelation he wanted him in his reach as near as possible.  
The god of mischief did not care. He only hated to be disturbed in his literary passion.  
  
“How is that possible!? “  
  
Loki sighed.  
Apparently he was not yet around for an explanation, he wanted to enjoy some rest and peace.

“My transformation arts no longer limit to trivial bugs and small animals, Thor.” he said gruffly. “Currently I can turn into every shape I want. There’s no difference between lower and higher life forms.” He threw a meaningful glance at Thor. “The same applies to the choice of sex.” he added simply.  
  
Thor's eyes widened in irritation.  
  
“Does that mean you're going to bear the child as a woman?”  
  
His voice was insecure.  
Loki shook his head inwardly about such obtuseness. This question answered itself.  
  
“There is no alternative that would not be accompanied by the death of the child and me.” the god of mischief replied calmly without looking up from his book. “I'm going to change my appearance in the fifth month, piece by piece, to protect the child from all which could preserve grievances. Internally, I've already taken precautions last night with an uterus so that the fertilized egg could implant.”  
  
“You planned it. All from the beginning.” the Aesir said flatly, clenched his hands into fists. “You used me to prolong your reprieve.”  
  
It honestly surprised Loki how startled his brother sounded.  
And yet especially _he_ should be accustomed to the fraudulent slope of the silver tongue, recalling the pretense of his death when he fell into the bifrost.  
  
“We’ve used each other.” the Jotun said coldly, turned a page, his eyes were in constant motion, almost flew over the lines. “You wanted me and I gave you what you desired.¨  
  
“Just because you desired me as well!” Thor answered, this time more violently.  
  
It unsuspected him to be desperate and Loki decided that he did not like the development of their conversation.  
“This argument is built on flimsy ground. Even for your limited standards.” he said, "All I wanted was your sperm and this you have instilled me with well enough, I’d think.”  
  
The last part of his sentence he gave the Aesir with a salacious, mocking smile that drew all color from his face.  
  
“I truly loved you.” his opponent answered half-hearted, seemed to search for words, “I still do! Every moment, every touch was - is genuine !”  
  
This argument seduced Loki actually to show another smile. But it lacked any joy.  
¨No.¨ he said quietly. ”You have satisfied your instincts, nothing more. In addition, you even believed I was going to die a few hours ago, therefore your actions cannot be measured by ordinary circumstances. You love yourself and probably what you imagine me to be, but you never have accepted my true nature and you never will.”  
  
He lowered his eyelids quickly, focused on the ground.  
In the moment when he opened them again, his skin shone in a translucent, flawless shade of blue and although he thought no mirror in reach, he knew that his irises had now passed into blood.  
  
Thor jerked away instinctively, but caught himself in his own reaction and growled.  
  
“You’re cruel.” he judged reproachfully.  
  
Loki closed his book, looked at his brother with clear, bleaky eyes.  
  
“I have never proved not to be. Nevertheless, you claim to love me. Ergo you have to be totally insane or masochistic. You’re probably both.”  
  
Thor snorted, scratched his head.  
  
“Damn, I hope the baby’s mind is happier than yours.” he muttered, took Mjolnir off his belt, rocked it musing in his fist.  
Loki paused, as if he had forgotten something important.  
  
Should he -?  
...  
Yes, he should tell him now.  
  
“Furthermore you should not waste too much worry about it.¨ the silver tongue replied.  “When it’s born, I'll be gone. And I’ll take the child with me.¨  
  
A deafening bang resounded, as Mjolnir fell to the ground and painted twenty inch long cracks in the hard marble.  
  
"What? ¨ Thor called indignantly. “Why !?".  
  
Loki rolled his eyes.  
The thunder god had never been granted by the gift of foresight.  
  
“Odin may have spared me now, but as soon as the child eats solid food he’ll want to eradicate me.” he said. “And in spite of everything my child will remain as an unwanted bastard in this world. "  
  
" **Our** child." Thor corrected him sharply.  
  
Loki said nothing.  
Instead, he looked at his hand, dipped in the nuances of wintry sea and just as deadly in its radiating cold.  
Would he be able to stroke through his child’s hair with this hand?  
Would he protect it from snow and storms in arms that belonged to an ice giant, lull it to sleep if it cried?  
  
Would he be a good mother? A caring, lovable mother as Frigga had been to him?  
A father?  
Was he up to this task at all?  
  
He did not know.  
But he had several months to be clear about it.  
  
“What shall I do to make you stay?” Thor said, keeping his hands busy with clumsy gestures. “You want Mjolnir? The throne? Midgard !? Say it and I'll give it to you as long as you stay with me. I would do anything for you, don’t you understand?”  
  
Oh, Loki understood. He understood very well.  
  
Nevertheless, he led his hands to his forehead, rubbed his throbbing temples. Migraine announced itself.  
Why did Thor make it so difficult?  
Why could this fool not understand that they, no matter how their story twisted and turned, weren’t fated for a common future?  
  
Only in separation they both got a chance for a new beginning.  
A life worthy enough to go through the years that would come.  
At the end they would just destroy each other.  
  
But what was he thinking, it was his brother for heaven’s sake.  
The one who still believed to love him in his naivete, in his unfathomable stupidity, even more than ever before.  
  
Often Loki hated him for it.  
Sometimes he also envied him the range of emotions he was able to bring up.  
But after this the pity always followed.  
  
Yes, he pitied the Aesir who was afflicted with the burden of affection.  
And then he felt sorry for himself at the same time, because he did not deserve this affection, and certainly could not return anything for it.  
  
He could not love Thor how he needed it, or how it deemed to be necessary.  
  
Maybe he could love their child for both ... at least he hoped so.  
  
“Midgard tempts me no more.” Loki answered with a sigh, rose from his chair and put the book aside. “I never wanted Mjolnir and according to the throne...” He laughed. “I grant it to you so I may mock you later."  
  
He made a sprawling hand.  
  
“You know me. I’m a spirit of air, tending to change my whereabouts every month. Nothing stops me and nothing will. I would waste away, I would wither like a spent rose. Trapped in a gilded cage - this is not healthy for creatures of my habit, Thor .”  
  
Following an involuntary reflex, Loki gently pranced his fingertip across his stomach, looking thoughtful. “This won’t change when soon other obligations will engage me.”  
  
“I can help you. I can take your burden.” Thor said, rigorously going to Loki, standing by his side. “I’ll take care of our child while you take your trips. And if you’re plagued by homesickness, you can always return to us. I will make sure that Asgard’s gates will be open for you forever, don’t worry about father!”  
  
Loki shook his head ever so slightly. When the thunder god talked everything sounded so simple and nice. Ridiculously simple and nice.  
“You won’t give up, will you? You’ll fight till the bitter end. And bitter it will be.¨ he said softly, looking at Thor.  
His brother smiled gently, a spark of smoldering heat in preserving in his eyes.  
  
“I’ll fight as long as I lose battles but win the war.¨ he replied truthfully.  “Listen. I can live with a temporary separation, but not with an eternal. If you try this, I will not rest until I’ve found you and brought back to the palace again. I'll follow you to Helheim, if I have to. You and our child. And I will love it, no matter whether it is wearing blue or white skin, like the way I love you, whether your eyes are drowning in blood or jade. And when the time is right, you will also have learned to love **me**. You've done it once, you’ll do it again."  
  
Loki furrowed his brow quizzically.  
  
“Is this a threat, my Aesir?” he asked, amused, leaned pointedly to Thor.  
Thor returned the gesture by wrapping his arm around the waist of his brother, his fingers crossing over Loki's stomach.  
  
“Rather a promise, my jotun.¨ he said, and before the God of Lies could react, Thor combined their lips in a sealing kiss.  
  
And somewhere, deep inside the body of the silver tongue, a tiny heart did its very first, shy beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos will give Loki many cuddles from Thor and comments will make me give you some more damn chapters ;)!


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